Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me - Chelsea's Family, Friends [22]
“Hey, I really like your ideas about me having multiple personalities. How soon can you get them to me?”
“Can I have the weekend?” I asked meekly.
“Sure.” And then I heard a click.
When I got home I told Peter how Chelsea loved my ideas for the movie and wanted something by Monday. My son had a game on Saturday, so I planned to write on Sunday. Peter would take the boys golfing so I could have the house to myself.
Sunday morning I got a call from my best friend, who is best friends with Kris Jenner. She told me that our whole family was invited to the Jenner/Kardashian house in Hidden Hills for swimming and a BBQ. You don’t understand what a Kris Jenner party is like. It does not mean bring your own towel and have a hot dog. First of all, a Kris Jenner pool party is the only kind of pool party you want to bring your kids to, because she hires real lifeguards, so you don’t have to worry about your kids drowning while you’re busy impersonating a Real Beverly Hills Housewife with your back to the pool. She has waiters dressed in black, white, and pink, to match her patio furniture, and they walk around with an unlimited amount of Veuve Clicquot. This means you never have to get up off your four-inch heels in your mono-kini to refill your glass yourself. Needless to say, when I got this call I was beyond bummed, knowing I would not be able to attend. Instead, Peter and the kids would go without the matriarch of their family.
Around 4:00 PM I had made pretty good progress and actually had a loose outline for a scene where Justin Timberlake had reason to sing and moonwalk. The ingeniousness of it had me feeling I was up in the clouds, like an astronaut. I was about an hour away from polishing it up and printing it out to show Chelsea the next morning, when, being the procrastinator that I am, I decided to check my e-mail.
The fourth e-mail down was from Eva, Chelsea’s assistant, and the subject matter read “Chelsea’s Playboy Interview.” I opened it and began reading. The interview was to be in question-and-answer format, to be featured toward the back of an upcoming Playboy issue. About halfway through, the interviewer said to Chelsea, “You do a lot of pranks in the office, I hear.” To which Chelsea answered, “Yes. Some are still going on and the person who the prank is on is totally unaware of it. For example, we told one of our writers that I was playing opposite Meryl Streep in a comedy about the Challenger blowing up. Can you imagine? She believes that this movie is actually being made.”
I could not believe it. I read the words several times. I looked up from the computer screen and yelled out to my empty house, “MOTHERFUCKER!”
About ten minutes later Peter opened the door with the kids. Just looking at his sunburned red face and still-wet hair infuriated me. I said, “The whole fucking Sky Is Crying is a lie. I wasted my one day off so I could work on this stupid thing while you got to frolic in a swimming pool.”
“What are you talking about?”
I told him about the Playboy interview. “I told you I didn’t think it was a good idea, but you are so fucking cheap you made me do it because you wanted me to make the money!”
“That’s not true. You were all excited about it when you came home on Friday. So I let you work today and took care of the kids all day.”
“Oh, like you’re some amazing father, because you got to shoot the shit with Bruce Jenner about the 1976 Olympics while inhaling filet mignon and watching Kim Kardashian attempt to do a back flip,” I yelled. “What an amazing sacrifice. You are so selfless. You should win Father of the Year!”
And then the thing that gets me angrier more than anything possible happened. Peter started to laugh.
For the rest of the night I attempted to ignore him, but he kept coming into the room I was in, so then I’d leave and go into another room, and then he’d come in there. Every time he entered the room, I’d yell, “Leave me alone!”
“Why is Mommy being so mean? Oh, are you sad you missed out on the gift bags?” he would say with a giggle.
“What? Who has gift bags